Disclaimer: Xena, Gabrielle etc belong
to MCA/Universal and Ren Pics, and anyone else who has an interest in Xena Warrior
Princess, not me.

Copyright ã 2000: No part or whole
of this work may be copied or used in any shape, form, or manner whatsoever
without the author's express written consent. If you want to use anything, all
you have to do is ask … nicely.

Violence disclaimer: This story depicts
scenes of violence and/or their aftermath. Nothing too graphic (enter, stranger,
at your riske – here there be icky bits), but readers who are disturbed by or
sensitive to this type of depiction may wish to read something other than this
story.

Love/Sex warning: This story depicts
a love/sexual relationship between two consenting adult women. If you are under
18 years of age or if this type of story is illegal in the state or country
in which you live - move along, move along, nothing for you here ...

If you like it, let me know. All comments except
for nasty ones are welcome!

Major vote of thanks to my ever patient beta
readers ForevaXena and Diamonddog for taking valuable time out to read this.
I was just as confused about this as you were … so thankyou DD for not strangling
me <BEG> Another vote of thanks goes to the ForevaXenites for giving me
permission to … err … borrow bits of this <G>

PART 2

The bard would finish what the warrior had started.

With the sole purpose of ridding the world of
the evil in it, and joining her friend and would be lover once more, Gabrielle
gently pressed her lips to the stone cold forehead, lingering, trying to absorb
the one last vestige of the essence of a warrior she had, and still, loved so
deeply, the one who had shared her life for so brief a period.

Growing old with the warrior had never been
on the cards, she knew that, but somehow, deep down, she had never really believed
it, thinking they would always run in the face of the devil and never be short
of breath.

But it was never to be.

Xena was dead.

Her warrior was dead.

She gently placed the fallen warrior’s head
in the dust.

"I will never forget," the bard said
softly, eyes robbed of all life. "If my death means the end of that thing,
then I will gladly do it.

"Goodbye."

Steeling herself, she knelt softly on the crying
earth, and lifted the long, cold sword that had once belonged to one of the
greatest warlords in all Greece. She felt it’s unfamiliar weight, swinging it
experimentally, learning the weight and balance of the finely crafted weapon.

Squaring her shoulders, emerald eyes once sparkling,
now devoid of emotion, she walked slowly and firmly away from the warrior, resisting
the temptation to look back, every step one tortured journey from where her
soul lay in ruins, slowly leaving the bleak cavern.

Once outside, she scented the wind in the blackness
of the day – a cold acrid stench floating gently all around her from the ruined
earth.

Where once there had been vibrant life, and
innocent people going about their daily routines as they had for countless centuries,
there was now twisted and blackened wreckage stretching across the landscape
as far as the mind could imagine, reaching up to the inky sky in tortured poses
of infinite agony. Fire, pestilence and suffering had taken their hold on the
world, wiping out all within it in one vicious stroke. Nothing was visible in
the impenetrable blackness, but the gentle bard who had once come from a village
not far from here, knew what she would find all around her – the bloated bodies,
rotting on the ground in poses of unnatural death, each and every one a testament
to its tortured end, hands raised to the sky begging for a mercy that would
never been beseen
in the cruel face of the new master of the Earth.

Gabrielle, if my death means and end to that
thing, then I will gladly do it.

But in the end, Xena’s death had meant nothing.

And now there was no way to stop it.

The bard would try.

For time immemorial, the warrior bard walked
the face of the sterile earth, seeking the being that had done this to her mortal
realm. She never encountered another living thing, as all had been destroyed,
save herself. Day and night were no different, the inky blackness impenetrable.
Far and wide she searched, offering silent prayers to the gods who had once
lived and played in this, their creation. To all her questions, the immortals
gave no answer, as all had been rendered to dust long before the warrior had
lifted her sword to forever silence the being that had wrought so much havoc
to the shattered earth.

Every day the bard’s mutilated soul remained
sundered from its other half, never to be reunited. Her heart ached, and for
eons she longed for the death that would put her at her rightful place at the
warrior’s side, unknowing of the destruction of the Elysian Fields.

When she had travelled the entire earth, heartbroken,
praying for her beloved, she returned to the cavern, and offered a prayer up
to whatever gods would listen.

I must end this thing. My beloved warrior …

I hear you.

The bard was shocked – she had never heard from
another soul, living, dead or immortal.

Who are you?

In her mind an image shivered. A tall, well
muscled bald man, hands reverently cupping a crystal ball, young, strong, vital.
I am the Seer Karmen.

The bard bowed in respect, not knowing what
had produced this movement.

Well met, she heard herself say. Where is my
warrior?

Abruptly, a phrase swam through her entranced
mind.

Gabrielle, if my death means and end to that
thing, then I will gladly do it.

Even in death, I will never leave you.

She is gone. The bard’s mind echoed misery,
pain, denial, longing.

She is not gone. The Keeper of Souls is abroad.

Who is this Keeper of Souls?

It is a being unseen and unknowable. You do
not need to know its nature to find it. Kneel.

Gabrielle knelt, head bowed in respect, tip
of the sword she had always carried digging into the dirt, her hands comfortably
resting on the hilt, as her beloved’s had once done so long ago. I am ready.

Are you?

Impatience stabbed into her. She knew Xena was
alive, Karmen had told her as much. The race to be reunited with the other half
of her soul outweighed all other considerations. Even in death, I will never
leave you, she silently promised her warrior.

So be it!

Abruptly Gabrielle found herself on her feet,
floating just above the rough surface of the cavern floor, unable to penetrate
the thick and uncaring blackness that lay around her. Once deep inside the cavern,
her heart bled afresh as she was reunited with the mortal remains of beloved,
long since turned to dust.

There was a golden glow on the cavern floor,
and the warrior’s outline, at first ghostly, then shining brightly, formed on
the floor. Once again, a spark of life flickered in the dead emerald green eyes.
Robbed of a warrior’s love for so long, a bard’s heart sighed in relief as the
beautiful face once again formed before her, giving the fallen warrior a semblance
of the life she had once shone so brightly with.

What must I do?

The Keeper of Souls has her, said the seer Karmen,
deep voice calm and melodic. You must free her, and all the other souls it has
stolen.

How am I to do this?

You are a bard, not a warrior.

Gabrielle looked down at herself. In her hands,
coated in blood, she could see the sword. She had held it for so long, it had
grown to make itself a part of her. Eyes stinging with tears, forlorn once again,
aching so badly for her beloved, a woman who had never left her, who she could
never see again with her living eyes.

Drop the sword.

Every fibre of her soul cried out in agony,
burning with longing to be close to her warrior again.

I can’t.

Then you can’t have her back.

Gabrielle’s small hand gripped the blade of
the sword, unmindful of he cold blade cutting deep into her flesh, tearing at
the sword, blood flowing freely as it finally came clear of her hand, tearing
muscle and bone with its passage. Tears flowing freely from her agonized eyes,
she clutched her hand and sank to her knees, soul aching so badly for her lost
warrior, that she could not feel her own pain.

It is done.

With those words, the Seer Karmen left her,
and she became again what she had been eons earlier: a young woman huddled in
the dirt of a cavern, soul aching, heartbroken cries terrible to hear as she
clutched the body of the woman she loved more than life itself. Shattered, she
did not hear the approach of the Keeper of Souls, who had taken her beloved
so long ago.

Gabrielle, began the cold, uncaring, inhuman
voice. I have come for you.

Abruptly, time unravelled, and they cycled back
to the cavern as it had been so long ago when they had both entered it with
the intention of killing the being.

Xena stood straight and tall, drawing her sword,
eyes boring into the shadows clinging to the being.

"NO! XENA!" screamed the bard, relief
at seeing her once again living warrior so great that the tears would not stop
coming. It was a voice thick with aching loss, the agony of the separation of
millennia from her ancient warrior causing her to stumble, yet still find the
strength to clutch her warrior.

The blue eyes, distracted for an instant, drank
in the devastated bard. The crack she had felt in her own dark soul mirrored
the pain in the bard’s eyes.

"What?" she asked, surprised, sword
faltering as her attention was drawn from the being.

Unthinking, unable to speak, desire to touch
the warrior so strong, the bard knew no more than the tactile sense as she threw
herself into the startled warrior’s arms.

Xena instinctively pulled the bard in close,
sinking despair that she had lost the crucial element of surprise in the battle
against the Keeper of Souls settling on her broad shoulders.

"Oh, no Gabrielle," moaned the warrior
softly. "The Keeper - "

The being stared at them both, and while the
warrior was distracted with thelong
awaited reunion with the bard, raised its hand, and both were surrounded by
a pure golden glow.

"No," said the warrior, agony lancing
through her body, eyes captured by the emerald green of the bard, shining bright
with pure love.

"No," said the bard, cradling Xena
in her arms. "Let it go."

The pain increased a thousand fold, then both
stiffened in shock, collapsing to the ground in wordless agony, finally robbed
of all life.

The figure continued on its business, moving
past them with an insulting disregard.

Gabrielle slammed home into her body with a
vicious start.

She straightened, disorientated, staring wild
eyed at the shocked monk, extending her arms and looking at her hands, all around
the room, taking it in as raw sensation, unable to process what she was seeing.
Her eyes travelled down to the still form of the fallen warrior, and she began
to sob.

Wordless agony was wrenched from her, as she
covered her eyes and the tears poured forth, her cries of despair agony to behold.
Wordlessly, Kanaris leant up, and pulled the broken woman into his arms, knowing
the comfort he gave her was only a whisper of what it should have been.

"Gabrielle," he began. "Did you
find Xena?"

"I found her," the bard got out in
fits and starts. "And it killed her! IT KILLED HER!"

The scream was a pure cry of rage at being separated
from her other half.

"I don’t think she’s dead," the monk
began slowly, trying to calm the bard. "I think it’s just put her back
in Prison."

"You saw," said the bard when she
was capable of speech again. "What do we have to do to fight it?"

"You are the Key, Gabrielle," said
the Keeper of the Keys slowly. "Its defeat lies within you."

The bard glared at him accusingly. "You
keep saying that, but how am I the Key?"

"You share half of the warrior’s soul.
She cannot defeat the Keeper without you."

"I know that by now," replied the
bard.

"The Keeper of Souls escaped it’s itsprison because the Key was taken. By the Gate Keeper.
They alone now stand at they Gate. The Gate Keeper must Lock the Gate."

Gabrielle recoiled in shock, realisation flickering
through her mind.

"How did you escape the Keeper’s Prison?"
asked the Monk calmly.

Gabrielle ignored the question, focussing instead
on the experience she had had in the dreamscape. Xena’s way, the way of the
warrior had not defeated it; neither had the way of peace, Gabrielle’s way.

"We can’t destroy it?" she asked slowly.
"You know that – you yourself are a facet of the Keeper of Souls. What
do you want with me?"

"I seek to imprison it again," the
Monk responded calmly, dark knowledge flashing in his eyes. "You are the
Key. How did you escape the Keeper’s Prison, Gabrielle?"

To that there was no answer.

"I have to talk to Xena. Can you get her
out of Prison again?"

The Monk frowned. "I am uncertain."

"Try!" the bard urged, leaning forward,
emerald green eyes blazing.

Kanaris stared at her, long and deep. Gabrielle
felt naked in his regard, his eyes boring into her half soul. She did not drop
her gaze, gentle green gaze unwavering.

"I will try," he said finally, and
slowly extended his hands.

She took them firmly, prepared this time for
the burning sensation that almost destroyed her. This time she did not witness
the bleeding universe, as she fainted long before them.

She again found herself in the clearing, but
this time there was no warrior, and she felt sinking despair. She sank to her
knees, and pondered what to do next.

A thin breeze began to weave its way across
the clearing, gently stirring the bard’s golden hair, carrying a soft, familiar
scent. Looking up hopefully, the bard saw the ghostly outline of the warrior
against the darkness of the trees beyond. Dragging herself to her feet, the
bard half stumbled over to the figure which was rapidly gaining solidity.

Lunging forward, Gabrielle caught the sagging
figure of Xena, who was gently shaking her head as though to clear it. She pulled
the warrior into her arms, holding her close, relishing the feel of the strong
body.

"Xena," she said softly, the question
clear in her voice.

"I’m okay," said the warrior slowly,
softly. "What are you doing back here?"

"I have to talk to you," said the
bard urgently. "Kanaris told me I escaped from the Keeper’s Prison. Is
that true?"

"I don’t know," replied the warrior.
"What else did he tell you?"

"He keeps telling me I’m the Key, whatever
that means."

"You are the Key?" asked Xena slowly,
incredulously.

"Xena," said the bard, urgency clear
in her tone. "What does that mean?"

"It means exactly that – you are the Key
to the Gate."

Gabrielle felt like screaming aloud in frustration.
"Gods Xena, what is that supposed to mean?"

"I will never leave you," said the
bard, gazing up into the tortured blue eyes of the warrior, desperation and
love shining clear through her eyes. Gabrielle felt herself tumbling inwardly,
free falling out of control.

"Who are you?" she asked, horrified
realisation seeping into her.

The warrior loved the bard with all her heart
and soul. She had fought for so long to find the other half to her soul, had
been content with friendship, but now found that the hidden love she had for
the gentle bard was fully, passionately returned. Would this be the end?

"I am the Gate Keeper," she said softly,
head hanging in conviction.

"Xena," said the bard softly, lifting
the warrior’s head so they were eye to eye. "I love you with all my heart
and soul. We will never be apart."

The sky blue eyes radiated a gentle warmth,
revealing the seasoned warrior for what she was: a young woman deeply in love.
Slowly the breeze transformed into a howling wind as the Keeper of Souls approached,
destroying all in its path, but the bard and the warrior remained undisturbed
as it tore at their hair and clothes. Unstoppable, they joined together for
a deep and heartfelt kiss.

A deep, inhuman scream sounded from the wilderness,
gradually increasing in strength and power, as the two lovers, unheeding, continued
in their gentle exploration of one another.

"NOOOOOO!!!!" screamed the Keeper
of Souls. "It is not to be! The Gate Keeper must never have the Key! NO!"

A million souls in torment screamed their agony
to the dreamscape, howling and gnashing their teeth. An undercurrent of wild
screams of joy sounded beneath it, gradually gaining in strength, untamed magic
unleashed.

The wind howled, the earth quaked and blazing
light shot up into the darkened sky of the dreamscape of the lovers, while they
continued their reacquaintance of centuries past. When the lovers finally broke
the kiss, silence covered the sky.

"The Gate has been opened," said Gabrielle
softly, looking into Xena’s crystalline blue eyes, seeing all the love she had
felt for centuries reflected in the pure gaze. "The souls are free."

"The Keeper of Souls will never return."

With those words, the ground beneath them began
to shift, Xena whispering gentle assurances to her lover as the ground slipped
away beneath their feet. The ghost of her strong arms remained around the bard
as they fell away into oblivion.

Gabrielle awoke with a start, instantly aware
of the jagged pain beneath her back. Alarm filled her and she sat up abruptly,
looking for Xena.

Across the wreckage of their campsite, lay the
still form of the warrior, seemingly with the stillness of death.

"Oh, no," moaned the bard, dragging
herself to her feet, unmindful of the jagged rocks and splinters, scattered
possessions, as she stumbed across to the prone figure.

"Xena," she said softly, as she struggled
to roll her warrior’s body over.

"Ah," said the warrior softly, slack
muscles becoming firm again, as she regained her senses. Blue eyes unfocussed,
she stared up at the bard, who was slowly gaining shape before her eyes. "Gabrielle?"

The bard did not wait; it was enough. She threw
herself into the warrior’s arms, crying, gently kissing her neck.

"You’re alive," she said.

"I am," said the warrior gently, holding
the bard close. After the tears had raged for a while, then finally petered
out, Xena gently lifted Gabrielle’s face with a long forefinger, and ducked
her head, claiming the bard’s lips. Gabrielle did not hesitate, kissing her
back passionately.

"Xena," she said when they broke for
air, both hearts hammering. "I love you. Don’t ever do that to me again."